Apr 8
hey friends….
Just to let you all know — I have created a facebook page — where I am going to be putting pictures and other updates!
So — go ahead, visit it, ‘like’ it and follow along with the adventures!
https://www.facebook.com/PlanetAurora
Much love — Aurora
In the book description of this trek, it reads that you get pretty much everything on this trek - from seeing indigenous villages, alpaca herds, snowy mountain ranges, vicuňas (wild alpaca-llama ancestors), hot springs, and hiking 80km at 3500m or higher. They did not lie. This was one of the better treks that I have been on (and, as my faithful readers know, I have been on some good treks this year).
Over the past 7 months, i have had moments that been hard, moments that have been beautiful, moments that I have wanted to cry, but mostly, I have been amazed by the world. Amazed at how much beauty is out here, amazed at the kindness of strangers, amazed by how much there is to see and do out here....
I knew something was wrong when walking up 10 stairs winded me and left me sweating and needing a break. The young Peruvian woman carrying a a full load of goods to sell up high, who passed me, asked if I was ok, assuming it was the altitude. No, no, I responded. Only a week or two ago, I was at 6,000m. She looked at me dubiously, but passed on.
One of the delights of this year has been traveling in places where the history is OLD.
Mar 28
The other day on my bus ride to Copacabana, all the passengers had to sign in. I was struck, glancing over the list, that I was the only American. The list was full of Brits, Germans, Frenchies and, of course, many Israelis.
Over the past 7 months, I have met very few Americans. Oh, sure, one or two here and there. I have heard American accents once in a while. But, by and large, Americans are not traveling the world. The hostels are full of young Euros and Israelis, and here in South America — other South Americans. But no North Americans.
I find it curious. Why aren’t we traveling? Surely it is within our reach — well, other than our abysmal health care system that has the potential to cripple young people without insurance. Oh, and those college loans that other young people from around the world do not have. Ok — so other than those two details — why aren’t we traveling? Sure, it can be expensive, but I am making it on 30$/day(mostly) and there are plenty of resources out there to make it happen.
Part of it, I think, is that we have so much in our own country. I mean — I could a year (or more!) and travel to all the national parks in the US (and how awesome would that be?! Add that one to the bucket list….). I also wonder how many Americans I would meet if I was, say, backpacking through Europe? Would it be different there?
Then, of course, there is the American mentality of work-work-work. We work a lot. Like — a lot a lot. Maybe it is chasing the American dream. Maybe it is to pay off the student loans. Or maybe it is just to have health insurance.
But — all that got thrown out the window when I discovered the answer to my question: Where are all the Americans?
In cusco.
They are all in Cusco.
I have been overwhelmed in the past few days by the number of Americans who are here. Sure — it is the jumping off point for Maccu Pichu. But…. there are pretty incredible places to see all around the world (how about the beaches of Southern India? or the mountains of Nepal? The temples of Thailand? the list goes on and on…)
But, no, they are HERE. So… why here and not…. there?
I am not sure. Perhaps it has something to do with safety? We are fed, in the US, a steady stream of news about how the world reacts to us. There can definitely be a feeling of… defensiveness, maybe? If you were to watch the news or read the paper in the US — it is hard to not feel insular. Tough to not feel that the world is not a friendly place.
But of course — nothing could be further from the truth. Even in Vietnam, even in Bolivia — places where our governments have had… er… differing opinions, people are kind, generous and ready to help (even if they don’t smile much in Bolivia!).
I love that I have students who read this blog (as well as friends and family) — and I hope that they view the world differently. I hope that they go out there and check it all out and discover how great it is out here!
Mar 23
Note to self…. if you are quoted a price, always make sure you ask if it is in dollars or in bolivianos or pesos or rupees or whatever currency you are currently using…..
Yeah…. the quote for the second climb – WAY out of my budget. Like, out of the ballpark.
Unfortunately, I have been hanging out in La Paz waiting for the climb for two days. And though it is a great city, I am so ready to get the hell out of dodge.
So, tomorrow, I will head to Copacabana on the shores of Lake Titicaca and then visit Isla del Sol before heading into Peru.
My time is quickly dwindling, which is very sad indeed. For those of you who don’t know — I am leaving South America on April 30th to fly to NY to then fly to Denver.
What??? you ask? well…..
On day in Vietnam, on a whim, I applied to present at the National Expeditionary Learning Conference (http://elschools.org/) . To my surprise, I was accepted, which will be a great experience — however, it meant cutting my trip short. But — since I am returning to South America – to Ecuador — in July with a group of students, I figured I would be still getting 5 months in South America.
So — that means that I have just 5 weeks left…. which is a little mind-blowing to me.
Better start livin’ it up…..
Mar 21
As I have told you all, Bolivia is the land of amazing geography — from salt flats, to one of the highest plateaus in the world to amazing mountain ranges, Bolivia seems to have it all. Among mountaineers, Bolivia is well known for the Cordillera Real (the Royal Range) – home of some of the highest mountains in Bolivia, many of them over 6,000m.
the view up the glacier and the mountain
[side note for all my American readers — I know that we are still stuck in the world of feet and inches and pounds and gallons, alone in the world, sticking to our guns… er, measurements. But, as you probably also know — the rest of the world has agreed to all use the same measurements, making it easy for everyone else to understand meters and celsius without needing to do quick math in their heads. My tactic? Just go with the crowd….]
In any case, if you know me, you know that I have a thing for mountains. Especially the big snow covered variety. And since every tour agency in La Paz offers a climb to Huayna Potosi, I decided to investigate. Turns out that I could take a guided climb for 3 days and try for the summit, 6,088m. I spent a while talking to one tour agency run by a Bolivian doctor who is also a climber (and starting some studies on high altitude health). We had some fun talks about mountains and though he was quirky (to put it mildly), I felt pretty good about the agency and decided to sign on. It took a few days for their to be a group for the day(s) I wanted, but finally it looked like it was a go as one other person signed up for the day I wanted to go!
Now, I have never done a guided climb before, being the guide myself or going with friends. But, not having any firends here to go with, it makes it a whole lot harder to go climbing. I tend to not love guided trips – as I do not like people waiting on me and I always want to help – which makes them uncomfortable (as that is not how it is done). But, as one friend pointed out, how nice would it be to show up and have all the food already taken care of? Good point.
on the way up the mountain (which is behind me in the clouds)
In any case, our group of 3 — Feliciano — our guide, Elad — an Israeli navy lieutenant traveling in South America for 4 months after his 7 years of service, and myself, headed up to the mountain. Feliciano, who is 40, has been spending time in the mountains since he was 14 and has been a guide for 16 years. He has climbed all the mountains in Bolivia, and most major peaks in Peru, Argentina and some in Ecuador. We had fun talking about Aconcagua (he has climbed all the routes there — which is super impressive!)
Feliciano, Elad and I on the way down
The refugio we were staying at the first night was pretty close to La Paz — just 14 or so km from the city boundary. After arriving and eating lunch, we headed up to the glacier for snow school — which was pretty much just learning how to use an ice axe, walk with crampons and play on the snow. Technically, I probably did not need this day as walking in crampons is something I feel pretty confident with — but at the same time, it was nice to go out their with the guide and feel confident about their skills and their method of teaching. And, I will always take a day to go play in the snow!
Elad and I after climbing school — don’t mind the krusty the clown look…..
In any case, before I bore you non-mountaineering-types with stories of snow and ice, the schedule was to get as much sleep as possible the first day and then to head up to the high camp the next day (which can take our guide close to 40-50 minutes, but took us about 3 hours – but more on that later), eat dinner there and then try and get a few hours of sleep before waking at midnight to head up to the summit (anywhere from 4-8 hours).
The walk to high camp was beautiful — though cloudy. But we got some great views of the glacier, distant peaks and the valley below. Plus Huayna Potosi is a beautiful mountain (see for yourself).
the summit is the peak on the right
I would not say that I am in the best shape of my life — exercise has been intermittent, coffee and brownies are indulged in on a regular basis (‘oh, just a little treat for myself’), Bolivia hasn’t been super kind to my digestive system and every hostel I stay in seems to have a gazillion smokers. But, I tend to do well at altitude and my strength has always been in my ability to walk up hills for hours, albeit slowly. This trip proved to be the same, and though I don’t feel like I am in the best shape ever, I am definitely more in shape in comparison to other tourists. And when you are in a group, you know who’s speed you walk at……
front pointing…. up a very small hill. fun none-the-less
The high camp refugio was small, basically a shack with a kitchen — an upper and lower bunk where at least 12-18 could sleep (if you were really crowded in). Us 3 showed up early, but then a group of 5 Israelis, 1 Dutch girl (the only other girl around), and their 3 guides showed up — making it a home for 12. After an early dinner of ramen noodles and hot dogs ((I know you are jealous), we tried to go to sleep at 6:30 for our midnight wake-up call. Between nerves (I am always nervous before a climb — just ask my climbing partner how I did the afternoon we spent staring at the west face of shasta before we climbed it!), listening to a roomful of snoring boys, and how hot a tiny shack can get with 12 bodies crammed into it — all I could do was rest my body as my watch registered the hours (and yes — I heard them all from 7 until 11, at which point I resigned myself to pulling an all-nighter – which of course lead me to try and remember the last time I pulled an all-nighter… but I digress).
Alpine starts are one of my favorite things about mountaineering. I don’t know why, there is just something so cool about waking up before everyone else and heading up the mountain. I love climbing in the dark – seeing the stars, faint outlines of the mountain before me and the sight of headlamps making their way up the mountain. And the reward for that? Seeing the sunrise from high up on the mountain.
sunrise on Huayna Potosi
This time was no different. We started off at 1:40 (following a cluster in the refugio as tired folks struggled to put on harnesses, plastic boots, and crampons — new for most of them) with Feliciano leading us up the mountain, followed by Elad and then myself. Though the climb was really hard for Elad, I was really impressed with his ability to steadily keep moving. Others (the other climbing party) were struggling — frequently throwing themselves to the ground desperately needing a break. But Elad really pushed himself and kept moving. Though we started at least half an hour after the other climbing teams (each rope team had two clients and one guide), we quickly caught up with them and leap-frogged with them for the rest of the climb.
It was a beautiful night, not a cloud in sight, fairly warm and no winds. In other words, a perfect climbing night. The snow was crisp, if just a bit sugary, and the climb was fairly straight forward. We snaked past some gaping crevasses and climbed a pretty awesome 45 degree slope over a crevasse (front pointing is ALWAYS fun!). The approach to the summit was steep and exposed, with the finally approach along the ridge to the small summit (that dropped off to the extremely steep west face). It was probably one of the more exposed climbs I have done, which was fine on the ascent, a bit spookier on the descent (requiring full attention which is why I unfortunately do not have any pictures of it).
Cheesy grin after summitting
We arrived at the summit just in time for the sunrise, which did not fail to impress. Mountains in all directions glowing from the rising sun and the pink clouds below us. But, in mountaineering, the summit is just a small part of the journey, so we took some pictures (weak shots as there was not enough light) and then headed down in increasing day light. I was astounded as we descended at how beautiful it was — Bolivia at that moment owning my heart (sorry Patagonia, India and Nepal).
horrible shot, but that is us on the summit
Our descent was fairly quick and involved some fun ‘skiing’ down some slopes (once we were past the glaciers) and we arrived back at the lower refugio in time for an early lunch and our ride back to La Paz. My second highlight of the day? Playing with the concinera (cook’s) daughter. She was adorable, I only understood about a third of what she said (ok, make that 1/8th, so I just said ‘no se’ a lot), but we had so much fun playing outside!
was the summit the highlight of my day or playing with senorita?!
Feliciano, seeing my skills and knowing that I had climbed before, offered to guide me up other mountains if I wished. We spoke last night (my first spanish conversation on the phone!) and then texted today and I decided to try for Illimani later this week. It was a bit of a spur of the moment decision as he texted me saying I needed to decide quickly as he was headed back up the mountain with another group today. There were plenty of reasons to say no (money, spending more time in La Paz since we cannot go until Friday, money and more money), but then again — when will I get a chance to climb the second highest peak in Bolivia with a private guide?!
I’m a little nervous (when am I not?) as this peak is higher, a bit more technical and potentially longer. But, I guess that is why I have a guide! And, I’ll tell you what, it felt damn good to be up on a mountain again. I remembered that my goal on this adventure was to climb and trek as much as possible — and so this seems to be a good way to achieve my goals! So now, I am going to try and figure out how to entertain myself and not spend a lot of money for the next few days!
I took this picture 3 times trying to get myself pointing at the summit….
Mar 17
i love the pepsi sign in the background…. new and old
La Paz is a city of contradictions.
Peaceful protests, police in riot gear
Women in traditional dress, men dressed in handsome tailored suits
Young mothers working at street stalls nursing babies, business women conducting meetings on the phone as they rush by in their high heels
“Some people here call me a gringo, but i love country” – said the Bolivian doctor.
“Evo [morales, the first indigenous president here] showed us anyone could be president” — said the college student
Cobble steone streets, high rises, street stalls with traditional medicine
People for cocoa, people against it. Farmers fighting for their rights, kids listening to hip-hop.
San Fransisco, the main cathedral and plaza in town
La Paz is liveable, diverse, and an interesting mix of new and old, indigenous and ‘gringo’. There is an intensity here that I have not felt in other South American cities. Maybe it has to do with being tabouthe capital city or maybe it has to do with the fact that Bolivians seem anything but apathetic. Every morning, when I am out walking around, I see people lined up at the news paper stalls, reading the daily headlines. Every day that I have been here, I have seen some sort of protest, some sort of street blockade. One seemed to be against violence, another was in support of farmers, another was in support of cocoa growers (from what I understand an extremely powerful lobby).
one of many very cool cobblestone streets in La Paz
It is a pretty great city though — music, art, and other cultural events happening daily. My ritual this week was to get a paper, sit in the Plaza San Fransisco (along with tons of other people and pigeons) and ‘read’ (as much as I could) the paper and people watch. Oh, and I am now hooked on Suduko (well if you count buying 4 papers hooked). Though i pretty much suck at it. I have yet to finish one! Dammit.
I drank too much coffee (and some really good coffee at that), ate too much street food, walked around a lot, saw enough art to fulfill my cultural needs for awhile and people watched a lot. I met up with some CS’ers, went to a yoga class (yahoo!), and got lost in the back streets. I went to dinner with the doctor who runs the climbing company that I am hiring for my climb (Huanya Potosi — see link below!) – who entertained me with stories of Che and living Bolivia in the 70s and mountaineering in Bolivia.
view from the San Fransisco mirador
And though I find La Paz interesting and liveable and fun to walk around, I am ready to get out of the city. It is way too easy to spend too much money here and am ready for a new adventure. So – I am headed out to climb Huayna Potosi, a peak just over 6,000m. that is close to La Paz (http://huayna-potosi.com/mountaineering.html#huayna).
I look forward to telling you all about it. take care friends.
Mar 12
I am used to being stared at. Being a lone female traveling in Asia solicits stares like you wouldn’t believe. There is no way for me to not stand out. I look different. Or when you are negotiating a busy street in Kathmandu with your friend and you are both carrying big backpacks. You get stared at. Or when you are the only white person, not to mention woman, on a bus in a rural area in India. You get stared at.
I am pretty used to it at this point.
At first it bothered me. Made me feel self-conscious and very aware of my actions. But then I started to smile when they stared. Or I said hello (or whatever the culturally appropriate greeting was). But mostly I started to smile at the stare-ers. And usually, it caught them off guard. But, for the most part, I got a smile back. Sometimes that smile started a conversation, sometimes it got me offers for food, got me a cup of chai, sometimes it got me invites to join their family. But most frequently, I got a smile back.
South America is different. Here, I get stared at, though I don’t think I look all that different (especially when I get asked if I am Argentine or Spanish). Here, I get stared at, though I dress fairly conservatively (especially compared to the teenage girls). Here, I get stared at, and I don’t get a smile in return.
I have been surprised. I do not find the people here (so far in Bolivia and Argentina) to be all that warm and friendly. They do not return smiles, instead, quickly averting their eyes (‘what, me? No, I wasn’t looking at you. no, not me.’). Of course there are exceptions to the rule, but for the most part, my smiles fall on cold faces.
And it is hard. It is hard to not take it personally. It is hard to still feel open. It is hard to feel compassionate and warmth towards the people here. It is hard to keep smiling.
One of my goals on this journey was to open myself up to the world – to not let fear stop me from new experiences and new people. To build bridges and not walls, something I sometimes struggle with. I have been forced to build bridges along the way – to trust strangers and new friends. To make allies where I can and to smile at strangers. To laugh at myself and believe in the inherent goodness of others.
South America is testing me. It is hard to remain open, to want to build bridges, to keep my guard down (and not build walls) and not cocoon myself. The looks I get sometimes, the unfriendly, cold stares — sometimes I feel myself retreating back in — and I want to fight it, but at the same time, I want to protect myself. Sometimes all I want is to go back to where I look different from everyone else – because at least there I got smiles.
and that is not to say that there were not cold looks in asia and there are people here who smile….
So, perhaps this is my test – to learn to stay open to the world, even if they are not open to me…. to remember that it is about me and how I present myself to the world – not about how others react to me.
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